Monday, October 29, 2012

If the shoe fits.

Happy Monday, peeps!



Life lessons I have already learned on this brisk Monday morning? Hmmmm.

One, I really hate when Superteen takes her iPod to school. I am stuck running with Keb Mo and Mumford and Sons. Nice music, not so much for moving your arse.

Two, I forget I have mildish asthma. Until I run in colder air at altitude. I suddenly remember said asthma and expired inhalers, as I feel knives twisting in my lungs.

Three, I have been so busy with being busy that I have neglected running these last few weeks. My lungs burning, my arse burning, and my legs getting weebly wobbly- I love that feeling. I need to remember that I love it.

Four, there is no better time for thinking than when you are running. Especially when your music is slow and thoughtful. Lots of time this morning for deep thoughts, and I feel a long blog post coming on....

And finally, Not even my new shoes could make me forget how stupid traipsing up a cactus-filled hillside in Toms this weekend was. Stupid. Stupid.

But the new shoes? They hafta be about five ounces each- feathers on my feet. And that, my friends, is a good Monday morning.


Sunday, October 21, 2012

Farting rainbows

Timesboy- "I think it would be cool to have a dragon."

We go back and forth for a few minutes on the merits of having a well-behaved dragon as a pet. Then other supernatural magical pets come up.

Superteen- "I'd like a pegasus or unicorn."

Me- "Pretty sure unicorns are a-holes."

Timesboy- "Yeah, unicorns are all mean girls."

Superteen- "Yeah, but they fart rainbows and that's awesome."

Timesboy- "I'd really like a leprechaun."

Me- "Oooooh, they'd be worse than unicorns because they can talk."

Pretty sure the gentleman at the Running Company thought we were nuts when we came in debating the merits of a leprechaun over a centaur. These are the conversations we have when both children actually feel like joining in. This, or how to best survive a Zombie Apocalypse. (Hint, one prefers Walmart for crafting supplies, food, and ammunition all in one location, while the other prefers camping next to a well-stocked pond with a bow and arrow. Me, I prefer a Doubletree suite.)

Saturday, October 20, 2012

Starts with a T and ends with an E. Or not.

So. Fifth grade Christmas. Full of visions of Atari  64's  and Jordache jeans.

We lived in the Spooky House. I wanted a cabbage patch who looked like me (i.e., chubby with a bad bangs perm and glasses), and my big sister just wanted a phone. Spooky House had a phone shelf right between the kitchen and the bathroom, so you had to either stare at the toilet or pine for the kitchen- no rest and no satisfaction.

All my big sis wanted was her own telephone. Wellllllllll, I was a snoopy child. I was the kind of person who can shake a wrapped gift box and know that it is chock full of rocks surrounding the perfect set of shrimp gold earrings or an add-a-bead necklace. I discovered, through legitimate channels, that my sister was getting a Microscope from our dad. Microscope. Telescope. Same thing to a ten year old girl more interested in Pat Benetar tapes and a rainbow spectrum of jelly sandals.

"I knoooooooow what you're gettttting for Christmas...."

When you are ten years old, and your sister is a way cooler fifteen years old, buttercups, these words have power. Raw power.

The sister, the sister's BFF, and me. With all of my power.

Monday, October 15, 2012

Catching Up

Soooo, this weekend was a ton of fun. Superteen has a lot, A LOT, of homework that she has to get caught up on. Freshman year is difficult, and remembering to turn things in on top of navigating lockers/boys/lunchroom/social hierarchy/fashion is amazingly challenging.

She thinks I don't remember this, but I do. I have much more vivid memories of my outfit for the first day of school than the memories of the Bill of Rights or of Diophantine equations. I don't even try to convince Superteen of this, because I also remember the epic eye roll I would have executed if my own mother had tried to say she remembered. (Pick yo' battles, peeps.)

Anyhoo, we played catchup this weekend. When I say 'we', I truly mean 'WE', because I got the lessons also. Civics- we ALL need to dust off a history book and reread. Superteen and I went through the Bill of Rights, twenty-seven amendments and a pile of court cases. I daresay most of us can only name a couple of amendments, and none in their entirety. I went through that entire document, and felt a little embarrassed by how much I take certain liberties for granted. Reading through court cases, I am reminded that people fought for our freedoms, not just in battlefields, but also in courtrooms and classrooms.

My point, cupcakes, is that we all need to educate ourselves. Not with pundits on the news channels that agree with our views, but with a copy of the Bill of Rights. With history books, written far enough removed so as not to be myopic. With retellings by our forefathers, be they founders of our country or our grandparents with their WWII tales.

Peace and love and mush!  

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Juice

A handful of kale, a handful of spinach, half a banana, ice, and orange juice. A dropperful each of Ass Kicking immune, Ass Kicking Sinus, and Ass Kicking Biotic. Blend (preferably in a Magic Bullet or Vitamix) until a lime-green pulpy mess. Drink up quickly, and feel two distinct feelings. One, feel that surely this many vitamins can kick any cold germ's arse to the curb. Two, feel a little uppity/sheepish that you are now one of those whackadoos that juices, as opposed to most  who simply grab their breakfast with a side of hashbrowns in a drive-thru.

Nomnomnom


There, doncha feel aaaah-mazing, cupcakes?

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Kick Ass



My head hurts so incredibly badly that I fear I may never be witty again. However, I am overdosing on medicine called 'kick-ass', and this has to count for something, right?

Monday, October 8, 2012

Fifteen

Fifteen days.

I am ready to be a little less encumbered by stuff. Stuff- knickknacks and tchotchkes. Books I will never read again. The sweater I got on sale that just isn't quite right for me. Leftovers from another life that I have hung onto out of some sort of obligation.

Saturday, October 6, 2012

No Private Parts or Nazis. Please and Thank You.

Let's talk oversharing, peeps.
no reason, just because I can...

I sometimes overshare. I tell what I am thinking-good, bad, and ugly. I tell stores about the monkeys. I have even been known to throw a gross dawg story in the mix.

However, comma, I only overshare things that will neither harm nor embarrass the monkeys or anyone I love. Facebook and Twitter have become these cesspools of oversharing, and I propose that we go back to a little decorum. Maybe it's the election year, which has made each and every one of us a Constitutional expert with a platform. I propose we go back to cute kitty pictures and blow-by-blow accounts of our lunches.

I solemnly swear to the following, and I urge you to commit to it also....